Kouhaku
by tokeiF
Summary: England spends the new year at Japan's house. Title comes from the annual singing competition held in Japan every year at that time.
1. Chapter 1

KOUHAKU

Arthur looked away from the television as a basket of oranges was placed next to him, shifting slightly to make way for Kiku to kneel and slip his own legs under the blanket covering the table.

"Red or white?" His host asked, picking up an orange. Arthur glanced back at the television. "White, I think. It's hard to tell with so many people though. What DO they need all those back-up dancers for anyway?"

"They add presence to the stage," Kiku said simply. "Arthur-san."

"Ah, thanks." The other nation held out his hands to receive the peeled orange, individual segments arranged onto the petals of an open flower upon the peel. Arthur took a moment to silently admire the fruit, shaking his head in wonder at the effort the Asian took to beautify even the most mundane of tasks. It must be a Japanese thing, he thought.

He realized something else too as he watched Kiku select another orange from the basket on the table.

"The oranges are different, aren't they?"

The Japanese man looked up as Arthur turned and indicated with his chin the bowl of fruit set in the alcove behind him. The oranges in that particular bowl were plump and smooth, their colour much lighter and brighter than the ones on the table and in his hands. The fruit Kiku had just picked was small in comparison, its skin rough and wrinkled and bumpy with black spots and brown lines pock marking its surface, as if it had been left out in the sun for too long.

"Ah." He hummed in understanding. "Those are purely for decoration purposes, Arthur-san. These are for consumption."

Arthur stared at him, and he laughed softly at the look on the other man's face.

"Have you never heard," he asked, deft fingers digging and pulling apart the fruit. "That the uglier the exterior, the sweeter the inside?"

A second flower blossomed under his hands. Sitting up on his knees, Kiku delicately picked up a segmented petal between thumb and finger and leaned forward to press it lightly against Arthur's lips. The blond man caught Kiku's hand in his, lips parting to take in both the orange and the tips of the fingers holding it. He swallowed, and bared his teeth in a smirk as his tongue swiped droplets of juice from Kiku's fingers.

"You must be quite sour then."

His fingers closed tightly over Kiku's wrist and pulled suddenly, bringing the other man over the table and towards him with a sudden jerk. His own lips parted slightly as Arthur drew him forward.

"I could say the same for Arthur-san as well."

"Would you like to find out?"

His free hand cupped Arthur's cheek, the fingers curving and languorously trailing down the other man's neck. They continued south down to where the bare skin of his chest met the first button of his shirt and paused, fingertips tracing the edges of the button tantalizingly.

"If you do not mind."


	2. A small side story

A small side-story:

This happened many centuries ago, when a little boy no older than a drop of water in the seas surrounding his land looked up at an orange tree and pondered. A small hand reached up and tugged on the sleeve of the older, taller man next to him. Dark eyes looked down to meet black, and a question was asked.

"Why are they different?"

"The oranges?" Bending down, the elder picked the boy up and lifted him high enough to lean out and pick an orange from the tree they were standing under. "The ones here are sweet. We'll have them for dessert tonight. Those growing on the tree behind are not, so we will wait for them to ripen before picking them to give to others."

The little boy frowned and squeezed the wrinkled fruit in his hands as if to test it.

"How do you know?" he persisted. The older man laughed. "Haven't I told you this before? The uglier the outside, the sweeter the inside."

"Why?"

"Because heaven is fair to all, little brother." Brushing his ponytail back from his shoulder with his free hand, he ruffled the child's hair and smiled. "Come, pick a few more for your siblings and we'll go home for dinner."

Behind them the setting sun sank, as round and full and smooth as the ripest orange.


End file.
